A Night In Omega
by Jewell Treader
Summary: A drunk Shepard winds up between the sheets...with a batarian. But not just any batarian. All rights are retained by Bioware.
1. Chapter 1

The heavy and bumpy music of After Life grinded in Julie's ears. She had retired from the bar to sit alone in a secluded corner of Omega's center of attraction. She guzzled her shot of Purple Hooter down with a gratifying sigh afterwards. She needed that. It'd been a few weeks since she helped Aria retake Omega back, but to her it felt like yesterday. Every mission did. Perhaps her hard life was finally catching up to her, despite the fact she was on the cusp of her prime.

She could definitely feel it, she thought through a euphoric daze as she watched the asari dancers sway and tilt on their platforms to the music. For all eyes to see, they left nothing to the imagination, with their skin tight, scantily-clad bodies. Still, they were a wonder to watch, and Shepard half-wished she was up there dancing with them. But that was just the alcohol talking.

She shook her head. This wasn't helping. She was _supposed_ to be relaxing, she reprimanded herself, but her insufferable, drunk mind refused to listen and sunk another inch in the gutter. _Hell_, she thought in defeat, thinking it'd been a while since she'd shared her warmth with another. All this music was making her horny. Asari were pretty, but they weren't for her. The rumors were false. The great commander Shepard was straight as a board.

She giggled at the metaphor then decided it was high time to take her leave and go "take care" of herself, in private.

"Well, well, well. The great commander Shepard. Back for another round?"

Shepard paused. She knew that voice.

Turning around, she found Bray, Aria's second-in-command and what the locals liked to call her personal "lap dog." But Shepard knew he was more than that from personal experience. They'd teamed up to infiltrate Omega, shared firepower, sweat, and blood together. This was probably the only living, breathing Batarian in the entire galaxy who _didn't_ greet her with a gun to the face. And the first one she'd ever seen smile, like he did now. Nothing short of charming what with all the razor sharp teeth housed inside.

"Bray," she acknowledged. "How have you been?"

He snorted at that. "Oh, you know, the usual: head-butting with the Talons, shadowing Aria. But most of the time, just cleaning my shiny new toy."

"Is that it you're carrying now?" Shepard asked, gesturing to the intimidating canon cradled in his grip.

"Hhmm," he said, handing it to her. "Nice, little number right there, and sure as hell packs quite a punch. My…recompense from Aria, you could say."

While Shepard examined the weapon, he lit a cigarette.

"And a new pack of cigarettes, too," she added, handing him the gun back. "Seriously, Bray, how many of those you've got?"

He chuckled, blowing out a ring. "Plenty to go around, only I don't share."

"Well, good thing I don't smoke then," Shepard teased, fanning the smoke out of her eyes with a suppressed cough.

"I see Aria's settled back in," she said when an uncomfortable silence passed between them. "And she got her couch back." If Bray could have rolled his four eyes, he would have.

"You have no idea how much hell that couch caused me," he said, taking another drag off his cigarette. Before she could raise a question, he cut her short. "Don't ask."

"Damn thing wasn't worth all the trouble putting it back together anyhow," he mumbled. "Had to tow that fuckin thing all the way up here. I'd say it was a heavy ass dreadnaught engine if it weren't for all the cotton. That shit gets _everywhere_."

Shepard tried not to laugh and instead bit her tongue as an image of Bray covered in cotton flashed in her mind.

"What's so funny?" he asked, when she thought he wasn't looking.

She cleared her throat. "Nothing." Two of his eyebrows rose, saying he didn't believe her.

"It's just hard to imagine you all…fluffy," she said, trying so hard not to smile when she said it.

He eyeballed her, hard. Any other person would have cringed beneath his four-eyed, penetrating stare, but not Commander Shepard. Not after looking a Reaper in the eye and live to tell the tale. She instead received his glare without flinching. Then, as if the thought amused him, he snorted and relaxed, mumbling, "You have no idea."

_Oh, I think I do_, she thought to herself as she watched him take another hit from his smoke.

Of course, the mention of cotton had her obscure mind reminiscing of sheets and a comfortable bed. Her own on the Normandy beckoned to her, and she would be there now if Bray hadn't stopped to chat with her. He was saying something to her because his lips were moving but she barely understood him, too busy tracing the pecks and plated abs of his armor with her eyes.

"You like what you see?"

Her eyes flew wide open. Now she was in for it, she thought, meeting his multiple gaze. It was hard to tell whether he was peeved or…could it be that he was smirking? One thing she absolutely hated about batarians, besides most of them being galactic assholes, was the fact you couldn't tell _what_ was on their minds, or which eyes to focus on. She couldn't think fast enough to cover up her mistake.

All she could say, when words failed her was, "Uh…I've…I've got to go." She turned sharply with an unintended squelch of her boots, and left Afterlife without a backwards glance. The whole way to the docking bay involved her kicking herself in the ass and swearing she'd _never_ be caught drunk on Omega. Ever. Again.

Her ominitool bleeped just before she arrived at the hangar, and she hoped that it wasn't Aria paging her back. With that fear in mind, she punched in a button and found a new email. Upon accepting it, the message opened its contents to her. A brief one at that.

_Meet me in Kima District, Warehouse 84; top floor, number 106._

_Bray_

Her head jerked up, the realization of the message's contents and what it could possible mean turning in her head. All she could was…

_I'm fucked!_


	2. Chapter 2

In the end, after staring at the message for a full, unblinking minute to make sure it wasn't an illusion, she made her way to the Kima District. Twice on the way there she turned back around, but her curiosity won out both times. As much as the situation made her uncomfortable, she wanted to know what Bray was up to. The alcohol was still converging in her system by the time she arrived, but she thankfully still had a keen sense to be cautious. Worse came to worse, she could still wield her gun. As much as she wanted to trust Bray, one mission together wasn't enough for her to place explicit trust in him. She had to keep in mind: Bray was a batarian; a sworn enemy of her species. But even worse, a batarian working for Aria. She kept her right hand close to the gun strapped to her hip as she arrived her destination.

She didn't need to look twice to make sure this was it. By now, she knew the address by heart. She was about to knock, when the door slid open, revealing Bray on the other side, grinning. His warm smile took her completely by surprise, expecting a gun to the head or a blow to the stomach. But why the hell was she complaining?

She spoke first. "I got your message."

"Honestly, I wasn't expecting you'd show up," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. Aria was the only one who ever made him nervous by far, she knew. Why was he acting so edgy now?

Hoping to ease his discomfort, she said, "If it's a bad time…"

"No!" he quickly said before she could turn back around. "I…I mean…Come in." He stood to one side to allow her access to his apartment.

She figured he would have already tried to kill her by now, so she went in. She heard the door close shut behind her and lock back in place, but she didn't heed it, too busy ogling his dwelling. It was dimly-lit on the inside, but the lights in the streets outside reflecting off his large living room windows emitted enough to see by. The space was overall Spartan-like, other than a variety of guns decorating a nearby wall. Interested, she moved closer for a better look.

"All these yours?" she asked. When he didn't answer right away, she turned to look at him over her shoulder, finding him scratching the back of his neck again and his eyes on her back. The small glint in his four eyes shifted up from her torso to look her in the eye.

As if her question just sunk into his mind, he said, "Oh, yeah."

She turned to face him squarely, crossing her arms. "So what's this about, Bray? Something on your mind?"

Her forthright question must have given him courage because he seemed to relax, his eyes no longer avoiding hers but scrutinizing her from a distance. He tilted his head to the left and moved toward her.

"Depends," he said, stopping short from colliding with her. He was a good few inches taller than herself to where she had to look up at him, but if he meant to intimidate her, he was wrong. She stood her ground.

"Depends on what?" she asked.

"Oh I think you know," he said, his voice growing deeper, almost a purr. Warmth from his breath wafted over her, so close was he to her. Unthinkingly, she took a step back as the meaning of his words hit her. He continued to stare her down, his expression giving nothing away.

Bedding a batarian was just below a vorcha on her list, if anyone ever asked her. But now…now she wasn't so sure anymore. She returned his canted stare, tilting her head to the left. He smiled. All what she knew about batarians seemed to change in an instant when she looked at him. Actually, he wasn't none of things she'd labeled them to be: disgusting, unattractive, twisted and cruel…But Bray…Bray was…_different_. Looking at him now in a different light, she couldn't deny it: she found him attractive, and she had the chance to have him all to herself for tonight.

She seemed to take too long in her reply, when he took a step away from her, looking almost dejected.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at anything but her. "I…I thought…"

He looked at her, his eyes almost pleading for her to understand. But she did understand, and she showed him by grabbing him roughly by the collar of his suit and crashing her lips against his. He was stunned for only a moment before he accepted her seeking tongue into his mouth.

His lips were cold to the touch but soft; softer than any humans and thick. But his mouth was hot and moist in contrast, and she welcomed his alien tongue into her mouth, the thick member caressing the underside of her tongue and sending shivers from the tip all the way down to her toes.

But he abruptly pulled away, making her think he'd changed his mind. Instead, took her face in both of his hands and looked her deeply in the eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he said.

She smiled. "For a human, you mean?"

His face grew serious. "I need to know," he said. "that this is what you want? I'm not sure how much you actually know about how my people show their…affections. I've never been with a human before until you, and I know your species do things differently."

Even slightly intoxicated, she knew the extent of his meaning. At least he was gentleman enough to give her a warning for what she was getting herself into. But his innuendo only made her even more sure in her reply.

She leaned toward him, brushing her lips against his ear and whispered, "Show me."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the delay and the short chapter. I'm saving the best for the last chapter after this. ;)**

Bray moved forward, pinning her against the wall and bringing her arms above her head with one hand while the other braced itself on her hip. At first it made her uncomfortable, what with the way he stared hungrily at her, the peaks of his sharp teeth partly visible in a lecherous grin.

_Oh, shit! He's going to eat me!_

As he leaned down and brushed his mouth right below her ear, against her thrumming artery, she inhaled sharply from the touch of his cold lips.

"Calm down, Shepard, I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, his warm breath sending uncontrollable shivers across her flesh.

"Sorry," she admitted with a gulp as he…wait…_is he…sniffing me?_ Bray inhaled her scent, his face right next to hers. She was keenly aware that he still had her immobilized and wiggled for effect. His grip was iron, though, and it only seemed to tighten from her struggles. He growled in her ear, pressing the flat of his nose against the side of her face, while his free hand caressed her side suggestively, evoking goosebumps beneath her dress, which seemed too thin at the moment. She could feel the heat of his hand through it.

"This is how it's done, Shepard," he said in his deep batarian accent, thick with desire. She'd never had an aggressive partner before until now; she was usually the one in command. But not this time it seemed. That little voice of reason broke through her dazed mind: _He did warn you, you know? _

She bit her lip, contemplating. Bray must have sensed her hesitation.

"I'm not asking you to worship me," he breathed against her neck. Taking her chin in his hand, he tipped her face up to meet his gaze. "I'm asking you to relinquish _all _control to me."

She gulped, knowing perfectly well what he meant by that. She wasn't one to give up total control, not even to those she trusted, and definitely not to strangers. He was asking _a lot_, to allow herself to be taken however he wanted, giving him free reign to do whatever. He was asking her to play by _his _terms, not hers. Even as much as she wanted to sleep with him, even her curiosity didn't win out this time; doubts crept their way into her buzzed mind. Then, she understood.

Given their caste system, it now made sense why she never saw female batarians. The males were superior in their culture and everything they say goes; the females probably didn't have a say so in such sexual encounters; yet Bray, used to being in control of most situations, and being male, had given her a choice when he could just have his way with her right now. She was completely under his mercy. And why did she like it?

Even the sound of letting someone else steer the helm for a change sounded appeasing at this time. After all, she thought, she'd come here for a break from just that, and Bray was offering her what she came here for. A break from being in command.

"Alright," she said, meeting his penetrating stares. "I'm all yours, Captain."

There was no second warning that followed, taking her answer as resolute. Bray wasted no time in getting down to business. He let her go, but before she could rub her wrists, he swooped her up over his shoulder and carried her to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him then throwing her on the bed.

"I'm going to tie your hands," he said. If his voice hadn't held a measure of sincerity, she would have been out of that apartment quicker than a Reaper's beam flash. But she trusted him enough to know he wasn't going to hurt her. She was nervous, laying on the bed and shaking like a leaf. The cold temperature didn't help any.

Bray shuffled in a nearby drawer and pulled out a black tie. And just as quick, she found her hands pinned above her head again, bound tight by the tie. He made sure she wouldn't be able to get out of it, but not too tight to cut off circulation. Then he pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscled tone torso to the light. He was broader than most humans she knew, and her guess had been right. He had a white stripped underbelly. Other than that, his anatomy was remotely human, and not at all repulsive. The corded muscles in his arms as he moved on top of her aroused her more than she wanted to admit.

"Those are some guns you've got there," she said with a smirk. Though he replied to her observation with a devious grin, he reached back and landed a blow to her ass. Not brutally hard to bring tears to her eyes, but hard enough to leave an imprint and elicit a squeal from her.

She thought, in the stinging after effect, _Fuck! Did that squeal come from me?_

Bray chuckled, straddling her from above. "Didn't think you'd be that easy, Shepard. I've only just begun."


End file.
